by Amy Clipston
TWO
PRISCILLA STEPPED INTO THE KITCHEN JUST AS ETHAN set a basket of rolls on the table next to a platter of fried chicken and a bowl of green beans. She noticed a small folding table, set for one, in the far corner of the room.
She ground her teeth and looked at her father, who was sitting in his usual spot at the head of the table with a deep frown lining his face. Just as she’d suspected he would, he was carrying out her shunning as if he were the bishop of their church district. She wouldn’t be able to eat with members of her community or exchange money with them. She was now a stranger even in her own home.
She rubbed the bridge of her nose as renewed guilt burned through her. She had no one to blame but herself. The shunning was her fault. She’d made the decision to run away and leave the community.
“Priscilla.” Mamm smiled as she set a pitcher of water on the table. “Ethan is a great helper.”
“Ya, he is.” Priscilla mussed Ethan’s thick, dark hair as he looked up at her. “What can I do to help?”
“I think we’re all set.” Mamm’s smile faded. “I put a table in the corner of the room for you.”
“I see that.” Priscilla lingered by the long table. She was grateful she had explained to Ethan that she might have to eat at a separate table because of religious beliefs about shunning.
“Let’s eat,” Dat said, growling out the words.
Ethan looked up at his mammi. “May I sit next to you?”
“I’d like that.” Mamm touched his cheek and then looked over at Priscilla. “If it’s okay with your mother—your mamm.”
“Ya, of course.” Priscilla’s heart seemed to constrict as her mother gazed down at her son. She sank into the chair at the small folding table and bowed her head in silent prayer. Then she waited for her parents and Ethan to fill their plates before she carried her plate to the table and filled it with food.
“So you’ve already started school in Baltimore?” Mamm asked as she buttered a roll.
“I finished kindergarten,” Ethan explained before forking green beans into his mouth.
“Do you like school?” Mamm asked.
“Yeah.” He looked over at Priscilla. “How long are we staying? Will I go to school here?”
“Ya, depending on how long we stay.” Priscilla picked up her glass of water.
“Will I go to an Amish school like you did?” Ethan asked.
Priscilla hesitated as she met her mother’s curious gaze. “I’ll talk to your grandparents about that.” She looked at her father. He was still staring down at his plate just as he had since the beginning of the meal. If she and Ethan stayed here, would he continue to treat them as if they were invisible?
“Tell me about your friends in Baltimore,” Mamm said to Ethan.
“Well, my best friend is Nico,” Ethan began as he picked up a drumstick. “He’s really great at playing video games.” He took a bite of the drumstick, chewed, and swallowed. “This is good.” He looked over at Priscilla. “It’s just as good as your fried chicken, Mom.”
“Thank you. I use your mammi’s recipe.” Priscilla pointed at her mother.
Mamm’s expression lit up as she turned toward Priscilla. “You do?”
Priscilla smiled. “It’s the best.”
“Danki.” Mamm gave her an affectionate look.
Ethan entertained Priscilla’s mother with stories about his friends for the remainder of the meal. Then Mamm served chocolate cake and coffee. When they’d finished their dessert, Priscilla stood to help her mother clean the kitchen. She piled the dirty plates on the counter and then began to fill one side of the sink with hot, soapy water.
“I’m going to go out and take care of the animals,” Dat said, still grumbling as he headed for the door.
“Can I help you?” Ethan trotted after him.
Dat stopped and turned, fingering his beard as he looked down at Ethan.
“Please?” Ethan folded his hands. “Please?”
Priscilla looked at her mother, who shook her head as if to tell her to remain calm.
“Ya.” Dat motioned for Ethan to follow as they headed through the mudroom and out the back door.
As Priscilla returned to washing dishes, she tried to ignore the angry knots in her shoulders. Coming here had been a mistake, but she’d had no choice. She just had to make the best of it.
“Ethan reminds me so much of you,” Mamm said as she placed a handful of utensils on top of the plates on the counter. “He’s so eager to help, talkative, and curious. You were just like him when you were six.”
“This was a mistake.” The words burst from her lips as she faced her mother.
“What?” Mamm’s eyes widened. “No, no, don’t say that. It wasn’t a mistake.”
“Dat doesn’t want me here.” She pointed to the table in the corner. “He’s going to keep reminding me of all the mistakes I’ve made. He’d rather I just left.”
“That’s not true.” Mamm’s chestnut eyes glimmered with tears. “We both want you here. Let me work on him.”
Priscilla swallowed a snort. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do to change him. He’s just as tough on me as he was before I left.” She looked out the small window above the sink as Dat and Ethan walked toward the pasture together. “I just hope he treats Ethan better than he treats me. If not, I’ll have to go to a motel tomorrow and then find a job and a place to rent.”
“He’ll be fine.” Mamm touched her shoulder. “Just give him time to adjust. Your coming home today was a shock. Let him process it.”
“I’ll give him a few days at most, but if he’s still harsh with Ethan and me, we’ll leave.”
“I’ll talk to him tonight, okay?” Mamm’s eyes seemed to plead with her.
Priscilla nodded, and her thoughts turned to her dire financial situation. Even if she stayed here for a while, she needed income so she could save some money for a place of her own. “Do you still work as a seamstress and sell quilts?”
Even though her father’s horses provided a bountiful livelihood, her mother enjoyed sewing as a side job. Her father had allowed Mamm to keep the money and spend it any way she pleased. Priscilla had often wondered if she primarily enjoyed working as a seamstress for the social aspect it provided. Her father had always been such a stoic man.
“Ya, of course. Why?”
“Could I help you and split the profits?”
Mamm’s face lit up with a bright smile. “Ya, that would be nice. I left your sewing machine in your bedroom right where you had it.”
“Danki.” Priscilla moved on to scrubbing pots as she watched her father and Ethan lead a horse into one of the stables. She glanced over her shoulder at her mother. “So Mark Riehl has been working here for a year?”
Mamm stopped wiping down the kitchen table and rested her hand on her hip. “Ya, I guess it has been that long.”
“Why does he work here when his father has that dairy farm?”
“He was looking for a job, and your dat needed the help when Robert left.”
“Interesting.” Priscilla mulled over the information as she washed utensils. “Why doesn’t Mark live in the daadihaus?”
“He said he wanted a salary instead of room and board, but sometimes he eats supper with us if he’s working late.”
Why would Mark need a salary? Had his father’s farm fallen on hard times? Or had his older brother taken over the farm and told him to find another job? It just didn’t make sense. Both Riehl sons would need to help their father with the chores on a dairy farm that large.
“He’s a gut worker,” Mamm continued, oblivious to Priscilla’s internal questions. “He’s been a blessing to your dat.”
As Priscilla turned her attention back to the dishes, she imagined Mark sitting at his parents’ long kitchen table and telling his family all about her sins. She pressed her lips together. Somehow she’d have to find the courage to blend back into the plain community—at least for now.
“Look who
finally made it home,” Jamie, Mark’s older brother, announced from the glider on the back porch of their father’s house. His two-and-a-half-year-old son, Calvin, sat beside him and waved as Mark approached.
Mark’s father, stepbrother, and brother-in-law laughed as Mark climbed the steps.
“Some of us actually have to work late and then make the trek home.” Mark smirked at Jamie. “Unlike you, I can’t just roll out of bed and be at work.” He leaned down and gave his nephew a high five. “Hi, Cal. How are you?”
Calvin giggled and then leaned against his father. Mark had always thought he was the perfect mixture of his parents, with bright-blond hair from his mother and dark-blue eyes from his father.
“You’re the one who made the decision to take the job on Yonnie’s farm.” Jamie rubbed his clean-shaven chin as he grinned. Although he was married, he hadn’t grown the required beard. The bishop in their district made an exception to the rule for married volunteer firemen like Jamie because they had to wear custom-fit face masks. “You could’ve just stayed here and worked with Roy and me.” He leaned forward and looked at their younger stepbrother. He was sitting on a rocking chair at the far end of the porch.
“Leave me out of this.” Roy held up his hands. “You know I don’t enjoy getting in the middle of your squabbles.”
Mark leaned back against the railing. “I guess I missed supper, huh?”
“Cindy saved you a plate,” Dat said, referring to Mark’s younger sister.
“Gut, because I’m starved.” Mark ran a hand over his flat abdomen. “I worked hard today. Although, if you work for Yonnie Allgyer, you work hard every day. That man is a slave driver.”
“Laura was starting to worry that you’d been in an accident,” Allen Lambert said from a rocker beside Jamie.
Mark smiled. His twin had been married to Allen more than three and a half years now, but she still worried about him. “I hope you assured her I was fine.”
“I did, but she said she wouldn’t be satisfied until you got home.” Allen pointed toward the front door. “Go on and show her that her twin is healthy and safe.”
“I will.” Mark gave them a little bow and headed into the house, removing his work boots and straw hat in the mudroom before entering the kitchen.
“Onkel Mark!” A little blonde scampered across the kitchen and leapt into Mark’s arms. Mark often thought about what a blessing it was when Laura adopted Mollie Faith after marrying her widowed father. Allen’s first wife, Savilla, had been one of Laura’s best friends. The whole family cherished this small version of her after she suffered a sudden and fatal illness nearly five years ago.
“Hey there, little one.” Mark’s heart swelled with love as he held her to his chest and kissed her head. “How was your day?”
“Gut.” Mollie touched his face and giggled.
“You’re going to be five next month. How did you get so big?”
“I just get bigger and bigger!” She held her arms up straight and then giggled again.
He laughed. How he adored his sweet niece.
“You’re finally home.” Laura walked over and frowned as she looked up at him. “Florence said you didn’t call and let her know you were going to be late.”
Mark shrugged. “It was unexpected.”
“You should have called anyway,” Cindy quipped while drying a dish. Who was his twenty-two-year-old sister to tell him what to do? “I checked the voice mail,” she added, “and all I found were messages from your girlfriends.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Franey and Ruthann are not my girlfriends.”
“Have you bothered to tell Franey and Ruthann that?” Laura set her hands on her belly, where a small bump had started to form, revealing she was expecting a child. “At least Sally got schmaert and found a man who was willing to commit to just her.”
“I’ve never made any of them promises,” Mark responded as he rubbed Mollie’s back. “It’s their choice to spend time with me.”
“Ya, but you still have supper with each of them at least once a week,” Cindy chimed in again.
“And you told Jamie you tell them to call you because you like their attention,” Kayla, Jamie’s wife, added as she swept the floor. “It’s none of my business, but that sounds like you’re leading them on. They probably think you’re going to ask one of them to marry you before too long. I’m guessing Franey is almost sure.”
“I’m not ready to get married, and I’ve never said I was.” Mark shook his head. “And why does Jamie tell you what I share with him?”
Kayla’s cheeks blushed pink as her cornflower-blue eyes widened. She held on to the broom and touched her own belly. It boggled Mark’s mind that his twin and Jamie’s wife were both due to have a child within a few weeks of each other.
“I’m just kidding.” Mark looked down at Mollie Faith, who had her thumb in her mouth as she rested her head on his shoulder. Then he met his twin’s gaze. “I can’t help it if the maed can’t resist me.”
“You’re incorrigible.” Laura folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes.
“No, sis, I just tell the truth. The maed have always loved me. I can’t help that God made me irresistible,” he said, joking. He looked down at his sweet niece again. “Right, Mollie Faith? You love me.”
Mollie’s head popped up, and she kissed Mark’s cheek. “Ich liebe dich, Onkel Mark.”
“See? I just have this effect on maed.” Mark shrugged and then kissed Mollie’s head. “I love you too,” he whispered into her hair.
“We’re twenty-six, Mark. It’s time for you to grow up. Besides, you’re going to wind up in trouble if you keep leading on Franey and Ruthann. One day one of them is going to get hurt.” Laura held out her arms to Mollie. “Kumm. Let Onkel Mark eat his supper.”
“No.” Mollie buried her face in the crook of Mark’s neck. He grinned.
“Don’t encourage her.” Laura’s bright-blue eyes narrowed. “Mollie Faith. Kumm.”
“I want to stay with Onkel Mark.” Mollie Faith wrapped her arms around his neck, and he couldn’t stop grinning despite his twin’s deepening frown.
“I think she’s attached to him.” His stepsister, Sarah Jane, chuckled as she set a stack of clean dishes in a cabinet. At least his stepsister, just a year older than Cindy, was nice to him.
Mark looked down at his niece. “Why don’t you sit next to me while I eat my supper?”
Mollie nodded, and he set her on a chair before sitting down beside her.
“We kept your supper warm.” Laura set a plate with steak, mashed potatoes, and corn in front of him.
“Danki.” Mark smiled up at his twin before bowing his head for a silent prayer.
“Mark, I’m so glad you finally got home,” Florence said when she stepped into the kitchen. “How was your day?”
“Busy,” he told his stepmother as he cut up his steak. “It went by quickly.” He took a bite and nodded. “This is appeditlich,” he said after swallowing. “Did you make it?”
“Ya.” Florence nodded at Cindy. “Cindy helped.”
“Danki.”
“I’m going to go sit on the porch.” Florence started for the mudroom. “Does anyone want to join me?”
“Ya, I will. The kitchen is clean and the dishes are put away.” Sarah Jane caught up with her mother, and they disappeared.
“I need to get Calvin home.” Kayla set the dustpan and broom in the pantry and then waved as she headed toward the back door as well. “Gut nacht.”
“I’m going to go upstairs and read for a while.” Cindy wiped her hands on a dish towel as she looked at Laura. “Would you please tell me when you’re heading out? I’d like to say good-bye to you, Mollie, and Allen.”
“I will. I promise I won’t leave without telling you.”
“Danki.” Cindy left, and then Mark heard her footfalls echoing in the stairwell.
“Boy, I come home and everyone leaves,” he quipped.
“You always knew how to cl
ear a room.” Laura filled a small plastic cup with water and then pulled a picture book out of a tote bag sitting on the floor by the entrance to the mudroom. She handed them both to Mollie before sitting down across from Mark and looking at him pointedly. “So how was your day? This is me asking now.”
Mark wiped his mouth on a paper napkin. “I already said it was fine. Just busy.” He spooned some mashed potatoes into his mouth.
“You don’t normally work this late, do you?” Laura leaned back in the chair, and he saw her absently touch her abdomen.
“Sometimes I do.” He made sure Mollie seemed engrossed in her book. “Did you have an appointment earlier this week?”
“I did.” She tilted her head. “You’re deflecting my questions.”
He smiled. “I’ll tell you what happened today if you tell me about your appointment.” His smile faded. “I know you’ve been naerfich.”
Laura’s gaze moved to Mollie, who was flipping through the picture book and humming to herself. Then she looked at Mark again. “Everything is fine.” Her words were measured and deliberate.
Mark nodded. “Gut.”
“I know I shouldn’t be nervous, but sometimes it’s difficult after two miscarriages.” Her eyes shimmered.
“They happened early on.” He was careful to keep his tone mild. “Everything is going to be perfect this time. I can feel it.”
“Danki.” Laura began to draw circles on the tabletop as she frowned.
He could feel her worry as if it were his own. He needed to say something that would make her smile. “If it’s a bu, are you going to name him Mark after your handsome twin bruder?”
“Like I said earlier, you’re incorrigible.” She groaned, and then there it was—her smile followed by a little laugh. He’d managed to erase her worry and replace it with laughter. Relief filtered through him. He always felt better when his twin was happy.
But then he pressed his lips together. During the ride home tonight, he kept visualizing the pain in Priscilla’s eyes when her father criticized her for coming home dressed as an Englisher and with a child born out of wedlock. Priscilla’s humiliation had been tangible, and it had touched him—more than he ever would have imagined.